Her career path had taken a short detour when she married Joe Wilson. Joe worked as a short-order cook. They’d met at the diner where she waited tables while in college. When she moved from Spokane he willingly followed her to the Seattle area and quickly found another job, cooking in a diner. He was the nicest guy in the world, but their marriage was doomed from the beginning. Joe was content to stay exactly where he was for the rest of his life while Libby was filled with ambition to be so much more. The crux came when he wanted her to take time out of her career so they could start a family. Joe wanted children and so did Libby, but she couldn’t risk being shunted off to the “Mommy Track” at the firm. She’d asked him to be patient for a couple more years. Really, that wasn’t so long. Once she was established at the firm it wouldn’t matter so much. But Joe was impatient. He feared that once those two years were up she’d want another year and then another. Nothing she said would convince him otherwise.
Hershel glanced up when she entered his office. He wasn’t smiling, but that wasn’t unusual.
“Sit down, Libby,” he said, gesturing toward the chair on the other side of his desk.
One day her office would look like this, Libby mused, with old-world charm, comfortable leather chairs, polished wood bookcases, and a freestanding globe. Pictures of Hershel’s wife and children stared back at her from the credenza behind his desk. The one of him sailing never failed to stir her. Hershel had his face to the camera, his hair wind-tossed as the sailboat sliced through the Pacific Ocean on a crystal-clear day, with a sky as blue as Caribbean waters. The sailboat keeled over so close to the water’s edge she wanted to hold her breath for fear the vessel would completely overturn.
The photograph inspired Libby because it proved to her that one day, as partner, she, too, would have time to vacation and enjoy life away from the office. But in order to do that her work, her commitment to the law firm and her clients, had to be her sole focus.
Libby sat in the chair Hershel indicated and relaxed, crossing her legs. She knew the managing partner’s agenda. What she hadn’t expected was the deeply etched look of concern on his face. Oh, it would be just like Hershel to lead into this announcement circuitously.
“I’ve taken a personal interest in you from the day the firm decided to hire you,” he said, setting his pen down on his desk. He took a moment to be certain it was perfectly straight.
“I know and I’m grateful.” Libby rested her back against the comfortable padding. “It’s been a wonderful six years. I’ve worked hard and feel that I’m an asset to the firm.”
“You have done an excellent job.”
Libby resisted the impulse to remind him of all the billable hours she’d piled up on a number of accounts.
“You’re a hard worker and an excellent attorney.”
Libby took a moment to savor his words. Hershel wasn’t known to hand out praise freely. “Thank you.” She sat up straighter now, anticipating what would come next. First he would smile, and then he would announce that after discussing the matter with the other partners they would like to …
Her projection was interrupted when Hershel went on to say, “I’m sure you’re aware that the last six months have been a challenge for the firm.” He met her gaze head-on, and in his eyes she read regret and concern as his thick brows came together. “We’ve experienced a significant decline in profitability due to the recession.”
A tingling sensation started at the base of Libby’s neck. This conversation wasn’t taking the route she’d anticipated.
“I’ve certainly carried my load,” she felt obliged to remind him. More than any other attorney on staff, especially Ben Holmes, she thought but didn’t say. At six o’clock, like a precision timepiece, Ben was out the door.
Hershel picked up the same pen he’d so carefully positioned only a few moments before and held it between his palms. “You’ve carried a substantial load, which is one reason why this decision has been especially difficult.”
“Decision?” she repeated as a sense of dread quickly overtook any elation she’d experienced earlier.
“The problem is your lack of ‘making rain,’ ” he said. “You haven’t brought any major clients into the firm.”
Meeting potential clients was next to impossible with the hours she worked. Libby had tried attending social functions but she wasn’t good at “power schmoozing” the way others were. She felt awkward inserting herself into conversations or initiating them herself. With little to talk about besides work, she often felt inept and awkward. She hadn’t always been this shy, this hesitant.
“Hershel,” she said, voicing her suspicion, her greatest fear, “what are you trying to say? You aren’t laying me off, are you?” She finished with a short disbelieving laugh.
The senior partner exhaled slowly and then nodded. “I can’t tell you how much I regret having to do this. You aren’t the only one. We’re letting five go in all. As you can imagine this hasn’t been an easy decision.”
Libby’s first concern was for her paralegal. “Sarah?”
“She’s fine. She’ll be reassigned.”
Libby’s heart slowed to a dull thud.
“We’re offering you a generous severance package.” Hershel outlined the details but Libby sat frozen, stunned, unable to believe this was actually happening. People she worked with, people she knew, were losing their jobs. She was losing her job. Why hadn’t she sensed that? She didn’t like to think she was so out of touch with reality that she hadn’t picked up on it.
“I’d also like to offer you a bit of advice, Libby, if I may?”
The shock had yet to dissipate, and because her throat had gone dry she didn’t respond. All she could manage was to stare at him aghast, disbelieving, shaken to the very core of her being.
“I don’t want you to think of this as the end. This is a new beginning for you. One of the reasons I’ve taken a personal interest in you is because you’re very much the way I was years ago. I felt the need to prove myself, too. I set my sights on making partner to the exclusion of everything else, the same way I’ve seen you do. I completely missed my children’s childhoods. By the time they were in high school they were strangers to me. Thankfully, I’ve been able to make up for lost time. The point is, I sacrificed far too much, and I see you making the same mistakes I did.”
Libby tried to focus but couldn’t get past the fact that she was suddenly unemployed. She blinked a couple of times in an effort to absorb what was happening. It didn’t help. The sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach intensified.
“I hope,” Hershel continued, “that you will take this time to find some balance in life. Starting now.”
“Pardon?” she asked, looking up and blinking. Some of the numbness had begun to wear off. All Libby could think about was the fact that she had given her life, her marriage, her everything to this firm, and they were about to shove her out the door.
“I want you to enjoy life,” Hershel repeated. “A real life, with friends and interests outside of the office. There’s a whole world out there ready for you to explore.”
Libby continued to stare at him. Didn’t Hershel understand? She had a life, and that life was right here in this office. She was passionate about her work and now it was being ripped away from her.
“Who will take over working with Martha Reed?” she asked. Surely this was all a big mistake. Martha Reed was one of their most important clients and she enjoyed working with Libby.
“Libby, you’re not listening. The decision has already been made. The firm is being more than generous.”
“Generous,” she repeated, and gave a humorless laugh. Anger took hold then and she surged to her feet. The legal pad fell unnoticed to the floor as she knotted her fists at her sides. “This is a decision unworthy of you, Hershel. You’re making a mistake. I thought you had my back …” She could feel the heat crawling up her neck, creeping into her face, and snapped her mouth closed. Arguing was pointless; as he said, the decision
had been made, but by heaven she wanted him to know she wasn’t taking this sitting down. Stabbing an index finger at his desk, she looked him hard in the eyes and said, “I hope you know I’ll have another job before the end of the day.”
“For your sake I hope you don’t, but if that’s the case then so be it.”
“You’re going to regret this, Hershel. I’ve given you and this firm everything.” Without bothering to argue more, she whirled around and stormed out of his office.
With her heart pounding wildly, Libby approached her own small office. When Sarah saw Libby, the paralegal stood, her brown eyes wide and expectant.
“Well?” Sarah asked.
“I … I’ve been laid off.”
Sarah’s face went slack. “You’re joking?”
A security guard came to stand just outside her door, watching as she packed up her things. Libby jerked open her desk drawer and started emptying the contents onto her desktop. “Does it look like I’m joking?”
Sarah wore the same stunned expression as Libby had only moments earlier. “But why?”
“Ask Hershel.” Libby pinched her lips closed as she struggled to rein in her outrage.
“What … what about me?” Sarah sank into a chair as though her knees had given out on her.
“Not to worry, I already asked. You’ll be reassigned.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“You?” Libby choked out, now dumping the contents of her drawers into a tote bag she kept on hand.
“What are you going to do?”
“Do?” Libby repeated, as though the answer should be self-explanatory. “What else is there to do? I’ll find another job. I’ll be working for another firm before I’m out of the building. I told Hershel and I meant it. Jeff Goldstein has been after me for years.” This was no exaggeration. Jeff had contacted her two or three times since she’d been with Burkhart, Smith & Crandall to see if she was happy in her current position. He was the first person she’d call. Already a list of potential firms was scrolling through her mind. Any number of law offices would consider themselves fortunate to get her.
Slamming the final drawer closed, she reached for her briefcase and dumped onto her desk the files she’d spent several hours working on at home the previous night. Next she hefted the bag containing the personal items from her desk drawer over her shoulder.
“Libby,” Sarah said, eyeing the security guard.
Frankly she couldn’t get away fast enough. “I don’t think I could stand it here another minute.”
Hershel had offered her fatherly advice, sounding so righteous and superior … so patronizing. Well, she’d show him. He would rue this day; he’d made a huge mistake and was about to see just how wrong he was. Throughout her life, Libby had faced challenge after challenge and proved herself again and again. This would be no different.
If her mother’s death had taught her anything, it was that Libby should do whatever was needed to rise above setbacks. She’d survive. She had before and she would again. She’d lost her mother when she was far too young, and she’d gotten through her divorce. She’d weather this, too, just the way she had everything else.
Forcing herself to smile, she swallowed hard and looked at Sarah. “Keep in touch.”
“I will,” her paralegal promised. “You’ll let me know where you land, won’t you?”
“Of course.” When she did, Libby would ask Sarah to join her. They were a good team. They’d worked together for so long that they’d become like running partners—keeping pace with each other, intuiting each other’s needs and expectations. When she’d last spoken to Jeff Goldstein, Libby had insisted that if she ever were to join his firm he’d need to hire Sarah, too. Jeff had assured her it wouldn’t be a problem.
Without a backward glance, Libby walked out of the office. She felt other staff members staring at her, but she chose to ignore them. Standing in the doorway to his office, Ben Holmes started to say something, but after one glaring look from Libby he apparently changed his mind. Good thing. Ben wouldn’t want to hear what she had to say to him.
Her cell phone was in her hand even before she reached the elevator. After a quick call to directory assistance, she connected with Goldstein & Goldstein.
“Jeff Goldstein, please,” she told the receptionist. “Tell him Libby Morgan is calling.”
She was connected immediately.
“Libby, how are you?”
“Fabulous.” She got directly to the point. “You called a few months back and asked if I was happy in my current position, remember?”
“Of course. But that was over a year and a half ago.”
“That long?” Time had gotten away from her. “As it happens I’m free to come on board with Goldstein & Goldstein.” No need to hint at what she wanted. Libby preferred the direct approach.
“Really?” his voice dipped slightly. “As I said, that was well over a year ago. We’ve had a sharp decline in business since then. Almost everyone has. We aren’t currently taking on any associates.”
The news deflated her, but Libby wasn’t discouraged. “Not a problem, Jeff,” she said, continuing to walk at a clipped pace. She was outside the building now, joining the traffic on the Seattle sidewalk, her steps brusque and purposeful. The dark, overcast March sky was an accurate reflection of her mood. It was sure to start raining at any moment.
“I’m sure with your track record you won’t have a problem finding another position,” Jeff continued.
“I don’t think I will, either,” she said, making sure her voice reflected an air of confidence. “I wanted to give you the first opportunity since you’ve pursued me in the past.”
“I appreciate that. If something comes up you’ll be the first person I contact.”
“Wonderful. Thank you for your time,” Libby said.
“No problem. Keep in touch.”
“Will do,” she said, cutting off the words in her rush to end the call.
She regretted calling Jeff in an angry flush. She should have given the conversation more thought instead of acting out of emotion and outrage. Even now she was fuming, caught between disbelief and indignation.
The walk to her condo took fifteen minutes. The distance was what she considered her daily workout. Her building was on a busy street and safe enough for her to hoof it both early in the morning and late at night. She hoped she’d be able to continue to walk to and from work at her new firm.
Shifting the load from one shoulder to the other, Libby struggled to maintain her composure as she walked through her front door. She’d been so certain that this was it, so confident that her hard work and sacrifices were finally being recognized. To get laid off instead was unbelievable.
Only now was the truth of it beginning to sink in.
Libby had always been driven to succeed. She’d been the valedictorian of her high school class and had been in the top ten percent of her class in both college and law school. She had worked hard for those grades; she worked hard for everything.
With her arms wrapped around her middle, Libby walked around the living room three times, her mind racing at a speed to rival any NASCAR engine. The sky had gone even darker and a drizzle splashed against the windows, weaving wet and crooked trails on the glass. This was March in the Pacific Northwest.
Libby needed to think. First things first: update her résumé.
She turned on her one-cup coffeemaker, brewed a mug, and carried it into her home office. Setting it down on a coaster, she looked at the picture of her mother that rested on the corner of her desk. Her mother’s eyes seemed to focus directly on hers.
“I know, Mom. Don’t worry. This is only temporary. All is not lost.”
It was then that Libby noticed the plant next to her mother’s framed photograph. She didn’t even know what kind it was, but regardless: it was brown and shriveled now. It had withered with neglect.
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